Chapter 7
SEVEN
Meeting Lizzy
“I don’t usually pry, but…” Her comely smile matched the mischievous glimmer in her expressive blue eyes.
“Yeeesss?”
“There’s a reason, of course.”
“Just ask,” he chuckled.
“What exactly is your relationship with String Bean?” she pointedly asked.
He chuckled. “It’s Beanz. Same as it ever was. She’s just my friend.”
“With benefits?”
“What? No!” He laughed. “You’re my mother!”
“A mother can ask.”
“A mother shouldn’t even know the phrase. I’m not sleeping with Beanz. She’s just a friend and only became one because she was a package deal with Charlie. The two of them are like, like Luke & Leia.”
She smirked. “I was never a Star Wars fan, darling.”
He grinned, then shoveled lo mein from the carton into his mouth.
“Well, your friend Beanz is in love with you. There, I said it,” she stated.
“You’re crazy. She’s just a kid.”
“She’s not a kid anymore. She’s an attractive young woman. I was about her age when I met your father, and love is love, they say.”
“I don’t think they mean it the way you think they do.”
“Nevertheless, it’s true. She’s in love with you, and you’re in love with Pemberley. But I promise you, there’s true love—with a person—out there.”
“One day. Not today. My career is important.”
“See, you are in love with Pemberley.”
“Dad says that if—”
“For now, ignore your father and listen to your mother. He and I see things a little differently when it comes to your happiness and future.” She placed a hand on his knee. “There’s someone special I want you to meet.”
“No.”
She shook her head and smiled. “Yes. I know you better than anyone, and I know, for a fact, this girl is perfect for you.”
“It’s not gonna happen. Between finishing my illustration for the juried show and working sixty-hour weeks with Dad, there’s no time for dating.”
“We’ll see.” She smiled, then bit into an egg roll.
“This is unlike you to try to set me up. What gives?”
“Nothing. She’s someone I adore and ... I’m not going to live forever, you know. I want to see you happy with a girl who’ll be good to you and make you laugh. Besides, I want grandbabies.”
“Jeez, you’re only forty-five. That’s way too young to be a grandmother.”
“Still, I’m a planner, and you never know what the Master Planner has in store.”
“So, what you’re saying is that on the off chance you croak early, I should either meet this chick and get busy baby making with her or activate the benefits part with Beanz as soon as possible.”
Completely out of character, his mother cringed.
“No! God forbid. That girl is completely wrong for you. Your father would disagree with me for dissuading you from a relationship with String Bean, given his investments with her father, but in my opinion, she’s not suited to my son’s disposition. Lizzy is.”
“What makes you think this Lizzy person would be perfect for me?”
“I just know. Call it a mother’s intuition.”
Clearly stressed out, the pink-haired department secretary stormed into the classroom, nearly toppling over an easel in her haste. “He’s not coming!”
“Who dear?”
“Your model. I swear, these boomer art posers are so irresponsible. Ache this, pain that. This one claimed explosive diarrhea! Ew! TMI!” She rolled her eyes.
“Now what am I going to do? I can’t find a replacement for your next class on such short notice!
The department head is going to have my ass for this! ”
His mother gave him a humored look before addressing the girl’s meltdown.
“Let’s consider the positives. It’s better than cleaning up after the poor fellow. Take a breath, Camden. Don’t worry. I have the perfect figure model seated right in front of me.”
“What?” he cried. “No way!”
“Please, darling, do it for me?” she begged with a smile he couldn’t say no to but tried anyway.
“Not on your life.”
“I’ll never ask another thing of you.”
Of course she would. “You’ll drop the matchmaking with the Lizzy girl?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“You’ll telephone Dad and explain my hold up here?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’ll give me the last crab Rangoon?”
“Maybe.” She winked at Camden, then grinned.
“What would I have to do?” he moaned, running his fingers through his hair.
“It’s not difficult. Sit there, hold your pose and expression, follow my instructions, and daydream for an hour.”
He sighed, then raised his hands in defeat. “Fine. But not nude.”
“Don’t be silly. You think I want my students attacking you? I’m your mother, and I sure as hell don’t want to see you naked!”
The department assistant gave him the once-over. “Can I stay for the class?”
The clamor of descending art students came through the open double doors, and he stood in the corner beside his mother, running his hand through his hair.
Not because he was afraid of the horde, but because he hated being the center of attention.
His mother knew this, which made it all the more unnerving.
He supposed this was another one of her subtle lessons, and, of course, how could he deny her anything when she shared her creative world and motherly love with him so unconditionally.
“Good afternoon, everyone. Please take your easel positions so we can begin on time today.”
He turned, examining the twenty-two diverse students settling behind easels, either standing or seated. All went through the motions of setup, then all eyes eagerly turned to their professor.
“Given that our usual model couldn’t make the class, I have a worthy replacement, albeit clothed. Isn’t he handsome?” She chuckled.
He wanted to die, especially since some of the girls gave him that I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off look.
Wearing suit trousers, an unbuttoned dress shirt, and a tie draped around his neck, he walked to the podium, hands in his pockets.
His heart thundered when he stepped up. At his mother’s instruction, he sat on the chair provided, knees apart, hands clasped between them and turned his chin to the right, facing the three easels at the window.
As humiliation went, no amount of crab Rangoon could mollify this experience.
It ranked up there with his fourth-grade soccer game kick into the opposing team’s goal.
“As usual, we will sketch four short poses in fifteen-minute intervals. Do not forget to measure the height-to-width ratio of the pose before you begin sketching,” she instructed.
Facing toward the window, he watched the three students in his line of vision carefully measure and outline, eyes shifting from their easel to him, but the adorable brunette at the end fascinated him.
Her pigtails and paisley kerchief on her head accented her fine, dark eyes and long lashes.
Sunbeams shone through the windows upon her like a heavenly vision.
Once, she softly smiled at him. Of course she did.
He had nowhere else to look but at her, and his gaze probably burned her.
Maybe she felt self-conscious with him watching her as though she were the model.
He did daydream, imagining himself kissing her plump lips, her pert nose, the curve of her chin .
.. trailing kisses down her neck to her large …
His pants felt uncomfortably tight, and he replaced her image with the pile of start-up funding pitch decks waiting for him on his desk, but the diversion didn’t last long.
Every time she looked at him, their eyes met, prompting him to raise the corner of his mouth and her to look back at the sketch pad.
She bit her bottom lip in an attempt to conceal a smile, but kept sketching him, left arm moving fast. Two seconds later, she glanced back with a coy smile.
Then finally, she raised an eyebrow before flashing a million-watt grin.
They were flirting with each other. He with his eyes, and she with her luscious mouth.
Ignoring the professor’s classroom directions, he sat there lost in thought, spellbound by the quirky-cute, slender beauty wearing a print sundress and cowboy boots.
Cowboy boots in New York City! She was exactly the type of girl he wanted—someone who didn’t fit into a mold.
She was the polar opposite of Beanz or any other girl he brought home—all two of them.
Not that he brought Beanz home. She just followed him and Charlie like a lost puppy.
After ten or so minutes, his mother walked to the object of his attention and stood behind her, admiring the sketch. “Very, very good.”
Beaming, the girl looked up over her shoulder.
His mother placed a hand on the student’s shoulder.
“Although you’ve deviated from the full-figure lesson, I can appreciate your focus.
Excellent choice in replacing the charcoal with a graphite pencil for his eyes, Lizzy.
” Her gaze slowly met his, and she gave him that motherly, knowing smile she was so good at.
He’d been played.